High-Grade Intel 1

"Bro! We'll clean up everything and head out!"

"We'll wax the factory floor by morning! Loyalty!"

The heavily drunk Red Skull gang members staggered away. The rowdy party ended, and silence returned to the factory. I sank deep into the sofa and pulled a thick envelope from my pocket.

The birthday gift from the saintess, Isha von Estelle, handed over on the Han River bank.

"Let's see just how impressive the saintess's intel network is."

I tore open the envelope and dumped its contents onto the table. Detailed coordinates of Black Moon's 1st Branch, blueprints of the underground bunker, patrol routes and shift times for the guards—shockingly precise information spilled out.

"Whoa... is this for real?"

Adel, shoveling cake beside me, widened her eyes and snatched up a sheet.

"Look at this! Black & White Food Factory, the front company for the 1st Branch. Heh. See here? They monopolize 90% of the domestic pepperoni market!"

"Yeah. They're laundering money through the food business."

"That's not the point!"

Adel spat excitedly, spraying crumbs.

"Check the notes! Pepperoni aging room: optimal temperature 14°C, humidity 65%. Maintain variance under 0.1% for peak flavor."

Adel's hand trembled.

"They're insane! I told the Holy See to scout the enemy base, and they come back with restaurant reviews? Tracking humidity in the aging room? That's not intel—that's straight-up stalking!"

"...It just means they're thorough."

"No. This is obsession. Priests really are the perviest, huh? Educated perverts!"

Adel stared at the papers in awe and horror, looking ready to kiss them. Her eyes turned reverent, like a devotee receiving scripture.

"Lee Han. Change of operation name."

"To what."

"Counter-terrorism? Nah. This is a holy pilgrimage."

"...Do whatever."

Adel was already smacking her lips, dreaming of pepperoni communion.

My gaze fixed elsewhere: the red warning text on the last page.

'Jang Yuk.'

I needed the info he had. The key to Black Moon HQ. The elder's knowledge of the second catastrophe seed's location.

I gathered the papers and stood.

"Pack up, Adel. We're heading to Busan."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Hell yeah! Pepperoni road trip!"

Busan. A rundown pork soup joint in Sasang-gu.

Before breaching the 1st Branch factory, we decided to fill our stomachs. Two steaming stone pots bubbled on the table. The rich broth aroma hit hard.

"Ooh... smells decent? No off-flavors, right?"

Adel poked at the soup with her spoon, her picky genius mage palate clearly unimpressed.

I silently grabbed chopsticks and orchestrated the condiment assault. A dollop of shrimp sauce. A heap of seasoned radish. Then a generous blast of chili paste.

"Hey! Hey!!"

Adel freaked, grabbing my wrist.

"What the hell! You're defiling that pure white broth! That's sacrilege against soup!"

"When in Busan, do as the Romans do."

"Rome doesn't have pork soup?"

"Shut up and eat."

I stirred rice, broth, and seasonings into a red hell stew visual, scooped a heaping spoonful, and shoved it into Adel's mouth.

"N-no! That looks like army slop, mmpf!"

–Nom nom. As the spoon forced its way in, Adel's brow furrowed. Then her eyes slowly widened. The deep broth's umami exploded with shrimp saltiness and crisp chives.

"...Ohhh."

An unintended moan escaped her.

"Excuse me. Can you not make weird noises?"

"No, but... what is this? It's delicious. Did they spike it?"

"If it tastes good, that's enough."

I buried my nose in my pot.

–Slurp, salty goodness.

"Ohhh."

"I said no weird sounds."

"Uhnn."

"...Dude."

Adel scraped the pot clean, not a drop left, then patted her bulging belly.

"Haa. Energy restored. Ready to roll? Time to rescue my precious pepperonis."

Busan outskirts, Heukbaek Industrial Complex.

Thanks to Adel's facial recognition bypass spell, we arrived post-feast. Black & White Food Factory #1 looked like any food processing plant. Giant smokestack puffing white smoke, container trucks buzzing in and out.

We crouched midway up the hill overlooking it.

"Hmm."

I narrowed my eyes, scanning the factory.

The guards at the gate had sharp eyes. The faint vibrations from passing trucks told the tale.

"Mana waves are off."

Adel muttered through her goggles.

"Barrier over the whole factory. Looks like security, but it's a blocker—no sounds or smells leak out. Whatever they're doing inside stays secret."

"Then we punch through."

I stood, cracking my knuckles.

"Frontal assault. Smash it all, and it'll come out."

"Wait! Stop! Halt!!"

Adel clung to my pant leg.

"Are you nuts? Frontal assault? What if my precious production lines get hurt! Prime pepperonis are sleeping in there!"

"...So?"

"No brute force. Lee Han, we're intellectuals. Let's be smart."

Adel rummaged in her bag, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠pulling out Black & White Food uniforms and fake IDs.

"Ta-da. Infiltrate as ingredient delivery truck. You're the driver, I'm the picky HQ quality inspector. Perfect?"

"Thorough prep."

"All thanks to the saintess's intel. Employee lists, delivery schedules—everything."

We hopped into the hijacked 5-ton reefer truck and rolled to the main gate. Me driving, Adel in passenger with horn-rims and a stern scowl.

–Screech.

The ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠truck halted ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠at the barrier. An armed guard approached, tapping the window.

"Where from? Not on the scheduled delivery list."

His glare was fierce. B-rank hunter vibe. Hand hovering near his taser belt. Tension thick.

I glanced at the side mirror, timing it.

Per Isha's intel, gate guards always lagged 3 seconds behind manual shift times.

"Hey, Agent Kim! Shift change or what!"

A senior guard bellowed from the booth.

"S-sorry! Coming now!"

As the guard turned flustered, Adel hopped out.

"Hey! You gonna hold up people like this? Know how much my time's worth?"

"S-sorry. But ID check procedure..."

"HQ Quality Control, Adel von... uh, Adela! Urgent inspection 'cause the fresh meat shipment's crap! Want me reciting pepperoni brine specs? Or pointing out mold from 65% humidity fail?"

Adel's machine-gun tirade. Pure otaku zealot knowledge.

"Fat distribution off 3:7 golden ratio makes it chewy—I've said it a million times! More defects, and it's not just reports—you'll face individual damages from HQ!"

The guard crumpled under her momentum, plus senior pressure.

"R-right! Inspector, go ahead. Sorry for the trouble!"

Barrier lifted. Truck sailed through.

"Phew."

Adel readjusted her glasses, smug.

"Saw that? Flawless. And the intel nailed it—guard shift exactly 3 seconds late."

"......"

"Saintess has total stalker vibes. This is CCTV level. Scary—how's she date?"

"Shut up and get out."

We parked in a corner and dismounted. The factory interior was massive. Conveyor belts whirred, red meats processed nonstop.

–Sniff sniff.

Adel flared her nostrils.

"Haa... this aroma. Perfect pepper-smoke harmony. Heaven."

She swooned, but I frowned.

Heavy spice masked something. Not tasty meat.

"No."

"Huh? What?"

"This isn't pork."

I picked up a meat scrap from the floor. Dark crimson, faint mana residue.

"Blood smell. Not human or beast—magic beast blood."

"Magic beast?"

Adel's face hardened. We crept toward the main line.

Adel saw it first on the belt.

"Wait, that's not pork?"

The truth hit us. Grotesque monster corpses shredded by saws.

"That's... orc hindquarter? Goblin shoulder?"

Adel clamped her mouth.

"Insane. Processing illegal magic beasts? Into what?"

"Look there."

Machines dusted processed meat with mystery purple powder.

"Narcotic enhancer."

Eat it, get superhuman strength temporarily. High addiction, turning users into slaves.

Black Moon's cash cow: drug-laced pepperoni nationwide.

"Those bastards!!"

Adel's eyes rolled back.

"My sacred pepperoni! Mixing in monster meat? Fraud! Deception! Food hygiene violation—death penalty!!"

"Calm down. Main target's not here."

I soothed her and headed deeper, to the massive steel door sealing the underground passage.

"Real stench's from below."

Instinct screamed: strongest one's down there.

Underground special aging room. Chill air, slaughterhouse disguised as food plant. Ceiling hooks dangled huge meat slabs. Not pig or cow. 2-meter ogres, skinned and hung.

–Squelch! Crunch!

Eerie sounds echoed. A hulking shirtless man, muscles rippling, blood-soaked, wielded a butcher knife his size.

"Hup!"

He swung; ogre bone, tougher than steel, sliced like tofu.

"Good. Perfect."

The man admired dripping ogre flesh.

"These have great chew, top-tier mana density."

He tossed extracted heart to a subordinate.

"Drain the blood. Tribute for HQ elders. One whiff of off-smell, and I'll rip out yours instead."

Found him. The one with elder intel. That bulk: 1st Branch Chief Jang Yuk.